


in your warmth

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Clothed Sex, Coitus Interruptus, Creampie, Established Relationship, F/M, Naked Male Clothed Female, Netteflix and Chill 2020, Porn with Feelings, Porn with vague plot ?, Tent Sex, Vaginal Sex, i hate this so much, light begging, technically, technically ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “But you are aware body heat is the best way to stave off the cold, right? Naked, body heat, that is-”“And I’m leaving now, you insatiable bastard-”-Tent sex, featuring Annette wearing Felix's shirt, coat and cloak.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 114
Collections: Anonymous, Netteflix And Chill Kink Bingo 2020





	in your warmth

**Author's Note:**

> wow OKAY i was detirmined to get this up on the 15th ! so , my first entry for the kink bingo ! using , costume (does annette wearing felix's clothes count as a costume ?? discuss in comments) comfort/warmth, risky/outdoors, begging if you squint ? technically experiment bc first-time creampie ?? i should stop spoiling this lmao  
> this is a bit of a mess bc i rushed it so if i magically looks different later on ,,, thats no ones business  
> enjoy reading !!!

At first, he assumes Annette’s shiver is from arousal, or excitement, until he pulls away from her kiss to hear her teeth chattering. One of his hands stills, pulling out the two fingers tentatively inside of her, moving his hands back to her hips. The sound continues as she sighs, cut off when Felix looks down at her quizzically, tilting his head, his hair loose.

“Sorry,” She says, pushing her lips together, as if that’ll stop her jaw from moving. “I’m cold.”

“Cold?” Felix asks, and pushes his chest down onto hers, hoping some of his warmth chases the chill from her. Physically, Felix is endearing, but he can’t help himself, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you from Faerghus?”

“Faerghus summer nights are very cold, I’ll have you know.” She pouts, trailing her hand up his shoulder, across his collarbones. “Besides, we’re in a tent on our way to Fhirdiad, of course it’s cold-”

Felix rolls his hips against Annette, watching the gasp slip out of her mouth, cutting her sentence short. “Hot enough now?”

Annette glares up at him, only half-serious, tightening her thighs along Felix’s hips, keeping him close to her. “That’s a dirty trick Felix, and you know it.”

“How else can I keep you warm, find an Inn somewhere?” He suggests, leaning down on his elbow, dark hair draped over her. “That’d hardly be fair to the rest of them.”

Like always, and every stop so far in the war, and on their trek to liberate Fhirdiad, Felix had pitched his tent far, far away from the rest of the Blue Lions, originally under the excuse of wanting a bit of peace and solitude, which then turned into a need for privacy to sneak Annette in once the rest of the Army had retired for the night. Mercedes is thoughtful enough to cover for her, all the way on the other side of the camp in the infirmary, helping heal injured soldiers to prepare for getting to Fhirdiad.

“I wish we were at an Inn.” Annette says, her blue eyes wide, fingers wandering up his collarbones. “Then we’d have a _bed,_ and we’d be _warm_ , and not having sex in a _tent_ -”

“Now you’re just teasing me.”

Annette taps his shoulder twice, smiling at him. “Up; I need to put my nightgown back on.”

Felix does lean up slightly, frowning down at her, his thumbs brushing the underside of her ribs. “Now hold on, let’s not get drastic.” The nightgown Annette wore when she crossed the camp a little under an hour ago is made of the sturdiest, finest Faerghus wool, practical for crossing the Faerghan climate, but as soon as she entered his tent under the guise of a quick kiss goodnight, he’s only thought about taking it off her.

“I know you just want to see my breasts, Felix Fraldarius, but I’m cold and your tent doesn’t have enough blankets.” She says, and just for good measure, she pushes her bare chest up against his, and the brush of her hard nipples against him is enough to make him shiver.

“What if I got you a blanket, then?” He asks, head faster than his mouth.

“Where would you find one?”

“Steal one, I guess.”

Annette rolls her eyes, but doesn’t scold him, almost as if she’s entertaining the idea. “How heroic, and romantic too.”

Felix is bad at keeping his smile in check when he kisses her, raising his body off of her, suddenly exposed to the biting wind infiltrating his tent _somehow_. Annette’s eyes follow the way his torso straightens. He shrugs the black turtleneck on, ignoring the rest of his coats and furs to make a point that it’s not that cold, actually, throwing his sleep shirt back on, and he doesn’t bother with the dark blue boot-coverings. Annette sits up while he dresses, the sole blanket thrown around her shoulders, laughing behind her hand as he struggles to pull his trousers back on.

“I’ll be back.” He says against her lips, resisting the urge to linger when her hands cup his cheeks.

“I’ll be waiting.” She says, and Felix has to physically remove himself from the tent.

  
  
  


Felix had imagined, with an army as large as theirs, that he wouldn’t need to go far until he found an empty tent, but after nearly fifteen minutes of cautiously wandering around dark tents, in near total silence, the occasional snore or cough or sneeze. Stealing a blanket from an empty, unoccupied tent, is one thing, but he’s not about to provoke someone in the middle of the night for some wool. His eyes are drawn to the bonfire at the center of the camp, where they’d dished out the rations for the evening, where the center watch met, and Felix hopes the ration wagon might be generous for the cold.

Felix, only in his turtleneck, walking uncomfortably stiff in his tight trousers, prays that the ration wagon has a blanket.

He’d forgotten who was on watch first, too eager to get back to his tent, waiting for Annette’s orange head to poke through the tarp and fall into his arms. He has to hold back a groan when he spots a different orange head resting on a stool at the fire, occasionally poking the logs, still clothed for battle in his Faerghus furs.

“Hi Felix.” Sylvain says, his smile uncomfortably wide. He looks like he knows something, and Felix can’t stand when Sylvain uses even an ounce of his intelligence to figure something out. Annette feels completely different, almost elated when Sylvain manages to be smart.

“Hi Sylvain.” Felix deadpans, crossing his arms. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, no reason, just the excess of my shining, golden pride in you-”

“Do you have an extra blanket.” Felix cuts him off, rolling his eyes. He’s managed to avoid any proud, finally-I-live-to-see-this-day spiels from Sylvain for the entirety of his physical relationship with Annette, and he’s not about to be cornered when he’s on such a vital mission. Time-sensitive too, he reminds himself, and the urge to run back to his tent is fiercer than before.

Sylvain stokes the fire a little more, the embers rising into the clear sky. Beside him, the Lance of Ruin glows, brighter than the flames, the Crest stone humming eerily. He’s not sure who would attack the heart of “Sorry, afraid I took the last one.” He says, broadly, gesturing to his covered lap. “But you are aware body heat is the best way to stave off the cold, right? _Naked_ , body heat, that is-”

“And I’m leaving now, you insatiable bastard-”

“Okay no, don’t, but take me seriously; you don’t need a blanket. Tents get hot as Ailill when the morning comes, so there’s no point in layering up only to regret it later.”

Felix rubs his chin, looking pointedly everywhere but Sylvain, and his smug smile. It’s not worth the wisdom. “You sure?”

“What would I achieve if I lied to you, Felix.” Sylvain says, mock-offended, stoking the fire again. “But seriously man, you’re lips are turning blue, you better get back before your balls-”

“Leaving! Now!” Felix says, already back on his heels, hiking back to the secluded area where his tent is pitched, while Sylvain’s cackle is like the licking flames.

  
  
  


Felix expects one of two scenarios to greet him when he returns to his tent.

The first is Annette, back in her nightgown, pouting at him for making her wait so long.

The second is an empty tent, proof that Annette had gotten bored and mad enough to return back to her own tent at the other side of camp, and Felix would have to endure the ensuing silent treatment he’d get the following day.

Neither of these things happen.

Before unbuttoning the tarp of the tent, Felix wiggles his fingers between one of the gaps, hoping to catch her attention so she knows who he is. “Annette? It’s me.” He adds, for good measure, and even if her affirmation is a weak, small sound, he enters the tent, ducking his head just slightly for the overhang.

He registers, before anything else, the flush of Annette’s cheeks, how red her lips are, how wide her eyes are. He sees the unworn nightgown in the corner before he sees the Fraldarius teal, muted against the fire of her hair and freckles. Felix does note, before his eyes travel downwards, that the color clashes with her hair, but goes with her eyes, blown open and wanting, filled with a hunger he left her to sate.

Annette is wearing his coat and cape and the white, flimsy undershirt, but absolutely nothing else.

Annette is wearing his coat and cape and the white flimsy undershirt, nothing else, spreading herself with three fingers.

There’s too much to focus on. Too much to point out. Naturally, Felix starts with the wrong one.

“You know anyone could’ve walked in.” He says, pulling his boots off. He sheds his sleep top while he’s at it, the woolen material slipping from his shoulders.

His coat isn’t really the issue. With the way the hood droops over her eyes, he feels like he could devour her.

(There’s a very possessive part of Felix that rears its head at the sight of her in his house colors. Felix spends so much of their relationship feeling utterly, absolutely, possessed by her, and her voice and her smile and her laugh, and the way she makes him, that this feels new and sudden.)

Annette laughs, her hand paused, pushing his hood further up her head. “Don’t be silly, everyone knows not to come near your tent,” She says, and sounds so sure of herself. “Especially now.”

The long sleeves of his white shirt are bunched around her elbows, swimming in all the teal fabric and white fur. Felix drops to his knees in front of her, feeling her eyes on him as he reaches behind himself to pull his turtleneck off, exposed to the biting chill. He doesn’t feel it for long, as his whole body flushes, filled with warmth, when he watches Annette move her fingers back in, the slightest of sighs falling from her mouth.

“There were no blankets.” He says, mouth dry. Felix hooks his thumbs into his trousers, sliding them down his hips. There’s a genuine sense of relief now that he’s no longer straining in his trousers.

“I ended up improvising.” She sounds coy, shrugging her shoulders as best as she can, exposing more of her freckled shoulder.

Felix grasps himself, settling down opposite her. He groans at the feeling, wishing it had “You did a lot more than that.”

For the longest of moments, they stay like that, idly touching themselves while the other watches. Felix normally hates to be watched, never one who wants to be seen, but watching Annette watching him is different, entirely so, because Annette keeps biting her lip, sweeping her eyes from his face to his chest to lower, much lower. It comes with feeling desired, and Felix has rarely felt wanted like this.

“You’re not really going to keep me waiting, are you?” She says, breaking whatever spell keeping them. Annette tilts her head, the mass of fur from the hood falling with her.

Felix crawls closer, one of his hands running up her thigh, grasping and squeezing just below her hip. The contact makes her shiver, the cold of his hands against the heat of her body, all thanks to the cyan cloak and white fur she wears. “Are you above begging?”

“No,” She pouts, pushes her chest up, relaxing down against the bedroll, and like a magnet, Felix follows, bending down until he’s hunched over her. “But it’d be unfair if you made me.”

It hasn’t been an extremely long amount of time since the last time he kissed her, but it felt neverending, when he was outside the tent, and now it feels like water in a drought. This close, Annette is so warm, and pliant, sighing against his lips. His hand runs along her thigh, up her waist, until he reaches her shoulder, pulling at the coat, but then Annette is moving back.

“I want to keep it on.” She says, blinking up at him.

“But they’re my clothes.” He says, moving towards her again.

“But it’s cold, Felix.” Annette whines.

“But won’t they… get stained, when I pull out?” Felix says, awkwardly.

“Well then don’t pull out!”

There’s a brief second of silence, Annette’s face turned a thorough shade of red, but now more from embarrassment than anything else. Felix opens his mouth to speak, but Annette shakes her head. “There’s concoctions for it, I checked… and checked again.”

Felix trusts Annette’s research skills more than any leading academic to ever exist in Fódlan. He guides his cock to her entrance, sighing at the sensation. Felix almost feels bad for making her wait so long, when he starts to thrust into her properly. She’s practically swimming in his shirt and coat and cloak.

“Please don’t tease.” She says, just a tad too loud for his canvas tent, right on the edge of the camp.

Felix sits up on his knees, hosting Annette hips with him. She makes a small noise of surprise as she’s pulled down the bedroll, her hips at a much higher angle, when he fills her again. She wraps her legs around his waist, anchoring herself to him as he starts to thrust, this time harder, faster. Annette only gets louder, her eyes sliding shut. At this angle, his cock brushes right against her the course nerves inside, making her cry out again and again.

At any other occasion, at any other time, Felix would’ve reminded Annette to be quieter, but instead it vitalises him, especially when he sees Annette’s hand move toward her clit, throwing her head back when her fingers begin to rub, building herself up It’s the only thing he ever wants to see, Annette’s red hair against the white fur and blue fabric, in the colors of House Fraldarius, the only thing he wants to feel when she clenches around him, her voice urging him to keep going. When she comes, she muffles it with the excess fabric at her shoulder, driving Felix deeper and faster, until all he can do is moan, finishing with a few last desperate thrusts, digging her hips back to the ground in the last few moments.

The tent feels too warm now, the heat of their bodies against each other almost too much for the small space. Felix likes that he can share it with her, likes that she wants to share it with him. He pulls out gently, sitting back to watch the sight of his come spill out of her, using his thumb to part her folds.

“Stop looking at that.” Annette murmurs, removing the fur from her mouth, using it to hide her face.

Felix snaps himself out of the sight, and the warmth pooling at the bottom of his stomach. “Never asked me to do that before.” He curls back down around her, ignoring how warm she is, for the sake of cuddling against her, twining her legs around his. He tries not to think about the consequences of having sex in his clothes, but that’s an issue for the Felix of tomorrow morning, not the Felix of now. When he tries to pull her closer, Annette pushes him away.

“I’m too hot now.” Annette says, almost sheepishly, turning to face him.

Felix snorts as she shuffles out of the outer layers, rolling onto his front, her skin pressed against his, and her hand propping her chin up.

“Sorry I got your coat dirty.”

“It’s okay, I love you anyway.” He says, without thinking it, and it's odd how natural it feels, less terrifying than he thought, after only a few select times of ever saying it before.

It doesn’t matter how many times he says it, because Annette’s eyes still widen, her smile becomes much brighter, and her mouth, sweet and insistent, always finds his.

“If you want to try wearing mine sometime, I’d love you for that.”

  
  
  


Like he always is with most things of this nature; Sylvain is right.

Felix wakes up in a tent hotter than the eternal flames, Annette’s hot body practically stuck to him, just minutes before the rest of the camp has begun to pack up.

If Felix wears his mortal savant uniform until they liberate the next town from the Dukedom, no one makes any comment. Annette does find a nice seamstress who offers to wash bandages and slings used for injured soldiers, and throws the cloak, coat and shirt alongside them, smiling extra sweetly for the women who return it clean as ever.

Felix just hopes he gets to see more of her wearing it in the future.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading !!!  
> my normal twitter/ao3 account is @theatrythms  
> my nsfw twitter is @spreagtha , which is the irish word for aroused/excited  
> thank u again !!!


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